


greg has feelings for josh?!

by anthropologicalhands



Series: the great josh/greg road trip universe [2]
Category: Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (TV)
Genre: Gen, Humor, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Snark, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 11:02:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20599697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anthropologicalhands/pseuds/anthropologicalhands
Summary: Whijo expected that there would be complications on Greg and Josh's road back to a close friendship...however, he did not anticipate this particular scenario.





	greg has feelings for josh?!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cori_the_bloody](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cori_the_bloody/gifts).

> A special birthday gift for catty-words! 
> 
> In this universe, Josh and Greg go on a life-changing vacation where they dig deep into their relationship and Greg discovers, much to his shock, that he may have Feelings for his best friend. Naturally, the first person he calls with this revelation is Whijo.

It isn’t that Whijo is _surprised_ that Greg calls him from LA while in the middle of his trip with Josh. But he would have expected the call to come through during the day, and not jolting him awake at – he squints at the phone screen – one-fifty-two in the morning.

Whijo snatches his phone off the bedside table before the vibrations can really get going and, taking care not to disturb Vic besides him, hurries to the bathroom, not bothering to turn on the overhead light, the glow of the plug-in more than enough and still almost too much for his bleary eyes this late at night. He shuts the bathroom door behind him and leans against it, the hand not holding the phone up to his ear reaching around and cupping the opposite elbow to support it.

“Greg,” he hisses into the speaker, keeping his voice low. “What’s going on? Why are you calling this late? Everything going all right with Josh?”

Theoretically, a road trip between two old childhood friends to reconnect and try to rebuild a relationship is a good idea. In practice, Greg and Josh have approximately a metric ton of baggage between them and Whijo is fairly confident that it’s going to take way more than one crammed little car to get rid of all of it. Still, he appreciates that they are trying, even if it is _way too early_ in the morning to be dealing with this drama.

Greg’s initial response is somehow both too casual and incomprehensible at the same time, and Whijo has to take a second to actually understand what was said: something that sounds like yes, Josh is fine, but also something situation something major poblanos.

Whijo is pretty confident that Greg didn’t call him to talk about Mexican food, and that if Greg stays in whatever state of high Greggish panic, they will spend a lot of time going absolutely nowhere and just depriving Whijo of sleep even further, his five am wake up call ticking ever closer.

“Buddy, I didn’t understand a word of that,” he cuts through. “Deep breaths, man. Use the technique I showed you at the gym last month.”

“Right, right, count in four, release four,” says Greg blurrily, and his tone could almost be chipper, in a slightly deranged way.

Whijo waits while Greg goes through the exercises, fingers tapping against his tricep. Greg isn’t usually one to call at all hours, especially not while sober, but Whijo’s not sure that whatever substitute Greg is actually on (possibly caffeine – dude sounds _wired_) is doing him any favors, either.

“You good now?” he prompts, when it sounds like Greg’s breathing has gone from ‘hyperventilating’ to ‘marginally less likely to pass out from oxygen loss’.

“Yeah,” says Greg, still sounding on edge, but at least aurally comprehensible. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Cool. So, what happened with Josh?”

“Why do you think this has anything to do with Josh?” Greg demands, far too quickly.

Whijo rolls his eyes up to his ceiling, even though nobody is around to appreciate his demonstration of sheer exasperation. “Because there is some _other_ pressing reason that you would call me from a trip with Josh in the middle of the night, instead of just talking _to_ Josh, so I’m going to make the not-reasonable assumption that he did something stupid.”

There is a slightly embarrassed pause on the other side of the line. That is also unexpected.

“Not exactly,” says Greg uncomfortably. “Josh is…being Josh. As he does.”

“Shocker.”

“Well, I mean…he hasn’t done anything bad, exactly.” Whijo can practically see Greg sheepishly hunching him on himself on the other end of the line. “Just the usual stuff. Enters the wrong address in the GPS, makes us hold up lines in for too long for his selfies—you know.”

“Of course,” says Whijo, resisting the urge to add, _so you woke me up to tell me something I already know_. But there’s a point here, and Greg will get there – ideally before Whijo’s sleep deprivation takes control of his voice box.

“But, otherwise, it’s been a great trip,” Greg continues, in a bright tone that almost sounds convincing. “Really awesome. We’ve seen half of the bookstores in LA and Josh keeps listing all these weird facts he looked up about them and he doesn’t even complain that I’m taking too long, he just goes and plays with the cats. Speaking of which – he _likes _cats now, apparently. Didn’t he used to think Bruno was haunted?”

“Yeah, those were some crazy sleepovers.”

“Right? Also, this Bukowski tour without alcohol thing worked _way _better than I thought it would. Not to mention…we finally talked about some stuff.” There’s a note of something that almost sounds like wonder in Greg’s voice that Whijo might have gently teased him about, where it a more reasonable hour.

“Really? Already?” Whijo tries to keep his tone fairly even, but if Greg seriously called him in the middle of the night because he can’t believe his dumb luck that things are actually going _well_ with Josh, Whijo is going to drag him to the gym every day for the next week and put him through a full routine. _Especially_ burpees.

There’s a weird shuffling around on the other end of the line. “Not all of it,” says Greg quickly. “But, yeah. Stuff has been said that…needed to be said.”

“Glad to hear it.” Whijo means it: cranky as his friends’ drama can make him on days when he is well-rested, there is something reassuring about hearing from Greg directly that things are actually working out and him and Josh aren’t just shoving each other back and forth like two kids on a playground. There has been some promising photographic evidence in that regard: on brand as ever, Josh has been posting a million pictures on his Instagram, but for the once the ratio of selfie-to-place was more balanced, with Greg in several of the shots. And not just posed photos with Greg’s usual unenthusiastic mien, but easygoing candids where Greg actually seemed to be enjoying himself, browsing shelves or studying the paintings in The Broad.

“Well, Greg, if things are going well, uh…why aren’t you talking to him? This isn’t going to be one of those situations where you actually murdered him because of some horrible misunderstanding, is it? Because if this is a confession, full disclosure: I _will_ report you.”

“_No,_” says Greg, that familiar Serrano annoyance clearly seeping through the line. “My life is complicated, but it isn’t a Donna Tartt novel. Yet.”

“Good to know.” Whijo grins, briefly brought back from his own irritation. “Just covering my bases, man. So, where is he?”

“Snoring inside the AirBnb,” says Greg, and now Whijo can catch the slightly tinny quality of Greg’s voice as from being outside. “I’m on the patio right now. Seriously, I’m sorry I woke you up, but my head is all muddled and you’re the only person who could possibly understand this.”

“Great,” says Whijo, squeezing his eyes closed, somehow both exhausted and weirdly ramped up by the sheer nervous energy radiating from Greg’s side. “So glad I’ve become the social counselor in this group.”

He hopes his casual disdain might put Greg at bit more at ease.

“Right,” says Greg tightly. “I’m _serious,_ man.”

“Hey, sorry.” Whijo backpedals, painfully aware of his miscalculation. “Just trying to help you relax here—you sound a little tense. Seriously, what’s wrong?”

“I mean, nothing’s wrong, exactly—”

“So that’s why you woke me up at two in the morning? To say that nothing’s wrong?”

“It’s not that –” Greg begins, then cuts himself off with a frustrated exhale.

“Then what is it?”

“Do I seem to like Josh to you?” Greg blurts out, all in a rush, and Whijo is momentarily thrown through a loop at such a basic question.

“Uh, yeah? As much as any of us like each other.” Admittedly, Whijo isn’t certain that ‘like’ is really a factor in Josh and Greg’s relationship at this point, almost rendered inconsequential by such a long shared history. Which, honestly, there would be worse foundations for a friendship…if one didn’t take all of their other stuff into account. “Things have been rocky with you guys lately, but like you said, it sounds like your relationship is improving—”

“Not like _that,_” says Greg, apparently not panicked enough to not put on his usual edge of exaggerated exasperation.

Whijo rolls his eyes and leaves a pointed silence, waiting for Greg to remember who woke up who in the middle of the night.

Greg coughs. “Sorry, man. That was rude of me.”

“Yeah it was. Like _what_, then?” Whijo prompts. “Because you definitely aren’t calling me if you’re worried about you and Josh no longer care about each other. Josh couldn’t let go of a friendship if he tried, and you have ‘moving beyond past issues’ down to an art form, most clearly highlighted by your completely bizarre attraction to Rebecca.”

“Look, AA emphasizes the ability to process and let go of negative emotions—”

“I’m pretty sure that they usually don’t recommend sleeping with the source of the negative emotions in question, and yet you did that anyways.”

“We thought we could have a fresh start.”

“She banged your dad!”

“Do you have to bring that up again?” Greg demands in exasperation.

“Yes,” says Whijo remorselessly.

“Come on, man, this isn’t even about Rebecca!”

There’s a testy quality to Greg’s voice that makes it clear that Whijo needs to pull back.

“Thank god. So, what are you talking about?”

“I like Josh.”

“Ok, great,” says Whijo without really thinking it through, but the part of him that would be quicker on the uptake were it not two in the morning goes tense at the particular stress Greg has pulled on the word ‘like’. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Yes, Whijo.” Greg sounds exceptionally patient in a way that means he is anything _but_. “Except that I think I_ like_ Josh. The way that you like Vic, and Darryl, and all of the weird fossil boyfriends you had before them.”

“Oh come on, for the last time, they were not that – _oh_.” Whijo is more than ready to snap right back, when what Greg is really saying finally sinks into his sleep-deprived brain.

Oh good God.

Oh no.

Greg is pulling an elaborate practical joke on him, because there is _no way_—

Except this is Greg. And Greg Serrano doesn’t joke about Josh Chan. Makes the same kind of off-hand comments that Whijo has been known to make on occasion, but it’s been a long time since he has ever been _light_ about Josh.

“Care to elaborate on that, man?” Whijo asks, just to be sure, because while he usually picks up on things pretty quickly, he needs to be _absolutely certain_ that this is exactly what he thinks it is. “When you say that you like Josh, does that mean that you’re…interested? In Josh?”

There is a slight, extremely telling pause.

“…I mean, I’m definitely not _not-interested_,” says Greg lightly, and Whijo can recognize the lightness as the thin screen over poorly-restrained panic.

Well, at least now that part makes sense, even if nothing else does.

Whijo slumps against the doorframe, momentarily overwhelmed. This is not where he expected this conversation to go. This isn’t even the opposite of where he expected this conversation to go. It’s an axis sticking straight up into the third dimension, is what this is, and there’s a reason he’s always hated geometry.

Greg is still talking. “Look, I know this is not great timing, and it’s really late to be just springing all of this on you…but my head has been going in circles all weekend and I am thinking things I have _never _thought before and I’m just _freaking out, _man.”

Oh boy. For all of the very real progress that Greg has made, Whijo has the sense that Greg still bottles things up at times, and now it’s like the stopper has come out and the deluge is unrelenting. Whijo has to sit down, right on the toilet, because he might be the king of wall sits, but even his powerful legs can’t sustain this kind of effort.

At least he’s more awake now.

“How, _when_ did that…even _come up_?” He manages to force out, still reeling.

“I couldn’t even tell you.” Greg’s tone shifts to heavy and ponderous and nihilistic, which would be irritating under less dire circumstances. “It’s been happening all weekend, and it just _keeps happening_. Like, we were having dinner tonight, and just talking, and I was making fun of him talking about the guacamole, but like in a fun way—”

“Sure.”

“I was making an effort! And he laughed it off, the way Josh does. He even made fun of himself, too, a little bit. It didn’t bother him at all. I was trying to have fun and I don’t know, there was something really nice about the moment. We haven’t had nice moment in, like, years, and the vibe was good and he was just really…cool.”

“Cool?” Whijo asks, not entirely seeing the connection, but he’s recognizing the way that Greg is talking about Josh is not a way that Whijo would have ever thought that Greg would talk about Josh, and oh God he needs to like, go to kickboxing for a few hours and try to knock the world right side up, stat.

“Cool,” says Greg, his tone flat, like he can’t believe that’s the adjective he’s using either. “And we went to the beach today—”

“Wait, Bukowski went to the beach?”

“It was a detour,” says Greg uncomfortably, and Whijo can picture him scratching his ear awkwardly. “Josh was getting bored with the different stops—he didn’t say anything, but I figured, why not? He put together this trip, we could do at least one thing he likes.”

“Huh,” says Whijo, trying to remain noncommittal and aware that his grasp on the emotion was tenuous at best.

“Look, it’s not—” Greg groans and cuts himself off. “Well, maybe it does mean something, but I wasn’t thinking about it at the time. I was just doing my Seinfeld bit and then Josh dragged me into the water anyways and it was fun, you know? Like it was _stupid_, but Josh didn’t care and I didn’t either. It was nice but also…not, because my stomach felt weird and I thought it was just the mollusks at first, but he was also just shirtless the whole time which I’m realizing did not help, because I just kept thinking that I had no idea that it was even possible for someone to have that many muscles in their back.”

“That’s impossible,” Whijo protests, briefly diverted. “I quizzed you on them last month, remember?”

“Is this _really_ the time?”

“Sorry, man.” Whijo rubs his eyes. “But seriously, are you sure that you’re not just freaking out at the realization that, maybe, you aren’t as straight as you thought you were? Cause I mean, objectively speaking, Josh is hot. I’m not just saying that because we look alike. And I know that this potential new facet of your identity could be confusing—”

“No, no, this is not confusion,” says Greg flatly. “I know confusion. I can handle confusion. This is conflict. It’s boom, _feelings_. For _Josh_. And then when we were talking about trying to make better choices, he told me that there’s a voice in his head that sounds like me, that helps him reason through stuff and something _jumped_ in my chest, man. No, I know exactly what this is.”

And now Greg is sounding more like Greg, but not…angry, more like professionally peeved, like this whole situation is a massive inconvenience to him, and that’s good, that’s exactly what Whijo would expect Greg to feel about this utterly-incomprehensible situation.

“Wow. You, Greg Serrano, are_ sure_ that you have a thing for Josh?”

“I’m sure,” says Greg firmly. “I know when I like someone. And I know the pattern: in the past, when I have liked someone, I start squeezing it into a box of denial, then when the denial doesn’t work, I panic. To get rid of the panic, I try to deflect or come up with a list of reasons why the relationship wouldn’t work even though I want it to work, and eventually something happens and we try to make it work but it doesn’t. This is exactly what’s happening right now. I can literally _feel_ the pattern trying to set around me right now. Only this time, I want to skip all of the denial and just…figure out how to deal with it.”

“Wow,” Whijo finally manages. “That’s a lot.”

“Yeah.” There’s a despairing pause at the end of the line. “…I’m going to have to tell Josh, aren’t I?”

Whijo’s brain, still struggling with ‘Greg has feelings for Josh’, slams right up against the concept of “Josh finds out about Greg’s feelings for Josh” and has a miniature nuclear meltdown.

“Okay, back up a bit there, buddy. Where did that come from?”

“You don’t agree?” asks Greg. “I feel like I kinda have to.”

“Wait, hang on, just – hold that thought. This is a lot of new information, so –I’m calling a time out, right now.”

“Yeah, of course.”

Whijo puts the phone on mute and sets it down on the counter, scrubbing his hands down his face. After all of the shenanigans over the last few years, he had thought they were finally done. Try as he might, he just can’t entirely picture Greg and Josh romantically involved – his brain protests the very notion of it. But if Greg feels something, and more importantly, is trying to process those feelings in an actively healthy manner, then at least Whijo could try to make sure that Greg (and Josh too, really) got through them in one piece.

And, honestly, while _way weirder_ than any scenario Whijo could have pictured, it probably isn’t as bad as Rebecca Bunch Fever Round 3 would have been.

Actually…

He picks the phone back up.

“All right, I had a second to think. First question: does this mean that everything with Rebecca—”

“_No._ My mess with Rebecca was my mess with Rebecca,” says Greg firmly, cutting Whijo off with enough decisiveness that Whijo believes him. “Josh being involved…exacerbated the situation, sure, but our problems were about us, who we were as people, and my own self-hatred. I know you don’t like her, but we did have something. She meant a lot to me.”

“Right. Good to know,” says Whijo, after a short pause. He thinks that Rebecca and Josh’s similarities suggest that Greg might possibly have a type, but decides to withhold that particular observation for now – that will be for another day. “Second question: why do you feel like you need to tell Josh immediately? Like, I recognize and appreciate that new Greg is way more proactive and in tune with his feelings, but maybe this is a good time for you to remember old Greg’s caution and just…wait things out a bit. You literally just had this revelation tonight. Why the rush?”

Greg is quiet on the other side of the line, but it’s a more thinking quiet.

“Josh invited me on this trip as a gesture of good will,” he says at last, his voice softer now. “And we’ve been talking about our own reasons for acting the way we have towards each other. It’s been good. Therapy has been really good for him.”

“It’s been good for him,” agrees Whijo, sincere.

“Yeah, he really pulled through. And you know, for the longest time, one of our root problems was that I always felt overshadowed by Josh, and I resented him for that, for being left behind. But, honestly, I do think that having…latent feelings might have been part of how I treated him.”

“Oh?” The finely tuned motor of Whijo’s mind grinds to an abrupt halt and rewinds back through old memories, trying to detect even a hint of sexual tension between Greg and Josh when they were younger, because how could he have possibly missed that?

“Yeah. Well, maybe,” Greg backtracks. “I’m working on that part, but it would explain why the resentment and the jealousy felt so intense, but I couldn’t recognize it because of all the other factors I blamed for my crappy life. Now, I don’t have those excuses anymore, so I think I’m starting to understand more of my own motivations from that time, the ones I might not have been aware of. You get what I’m saying?”

“I think so.”

“And, really…Josh and I wanted to stop making excuses for our behavior on this trip,” says Greg, frustration at the situation seeping through the line. “We’ve been trying to own up on our bad behavior to each other. And if I don’t own up to this, then I’m acting in bad faith. I think I would be a bad friend if I don’t tell him. It will be horrible and uncomfortable, but he deserves to know, right?”

Whijo still doesn’t see a straight arrow connecting ‘have a crush on Josh’ and ‘tell Josh about said crush’, but he gets Greg’s point; it would continue to be a major unspoken thing between two friends who were trying to clear the air, and going against exactly what they wanted for each other.

“I think I see your point. But seriously, dude, you don’t need to bring this up right now. It’s a lot to think about, so take your time and think. Like, for example, when you found out Rebecca had sex with your dad—”

“Stop bringing that up.”

“Never,” says Whijo remorselessly. “And more to the point, you still took a few days to think about the situation before deciding to move past it, right?”

“Wow, you really make it sound like I make great decisions.”

“Historically speaking, you haven’t. What I’m saying, is that compared to _that _situation, realizing that you might have suppressed years of feelings about your childhood best friend and that those feelings may have sublimated into other ways is worth, like, at least a two week consideration period.”

“I guess you’re right,” says Greg reluctantly. “It’s just so confusing. We’ve been doing a lot of soul-baring here. And chest-baring. Josh takes off his shirt a lot more than I remember.”

“Yeah. But I mean, what a body, right?”

“_Right,_” says Greg, sounding both admiring and peeved, and peeved about being admiring.

“I know this is complicated, man—”

“Why couldn’t it have been you, instead?”

“—but I’m—what?”

“Why couldn’t I have liked _you?” _Greg asks plaintively. “Like, if I was going to realize that I had feelings for one of my friends, why couldn’t it have been you? It would still be weird, but it would feel less like the universe is laughing at me.”

_Thank god it’s not me, _Whijo thinks, with no small measure of relief.

“Come on, man. I know I’m a catch, but seriously, dude? It would never work out: you’re not my type at all.”

He relaxes a little when he hears a short exhalation of laughter from Greg’s end of the line.

“I mean, you’re not my exactly my type either,” he shoots right back.

“Bold words from the man saying that _Josh Chan_ is his type.”

“Touché.”

They are quiet for a moment. Whijo shifts, grimacing a little as his legs tighten from having been frozen in one position for too long.

“This is quite a situation you’ve found yourself in, Serrano,” Whijo says at last.

“Tell me about it.”

“Words are not enough. I can’t believe I used to think _Hector_ would have it the worst, romantically speaking. But right now, he’s happily married while you and Josh are still tying yourselves into pretzels. You’ve upset all of my expectations.”

“Haven’t you heard? That’s all I’ve ever wanted to achieve in life,” says Greg drolly. But then his voice grows sharp and urgent. “Hey, don’t tell Hector about this, all right? Because I love the guy, but seriously – he can’t keep a secret. Also, this would probably break his brain if we’re not careful.”

“Right on both counts. Dude, relax, I won’t tell him.” Whijo rolls his eyes and studies the mermaid tiling around his sink. “Look, right now, more than anything, I think you really need to just some sleep and just…take some time and think this over. You and Josh have already had a pretty complicated entanglement from the whole Bunch fiasco, and if you tell him, it’s only gonna get more complicated from here.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” grumbles Greg, and Whijo feels for him, he really does. But also…

“You know what, now that I think about it, maybe that’s part of his appeal…”

“_Wilson,_” says Greg, exasperated, and Whijo laughs out loud, hastily stifling it under his hand to avoid startling Vic in the bedroom.

“Okay, sorry, I’ll stop speculating. And if it helps at all…I don’t think Josh will react badly. He might be _confused_, but I think we can give him some leeway about that. If you know what you want your relationship with him to be moving forward, you guys can probably find a way to talk it out.”

“Yeah, I know,” says Greg, without sounding particularly certain.

“_Do_ you know what you want your relationship with him to be?” probes Whijo.

“I want a clean slate,” says Greg, more soberly than he’s sounded all night. “I’m still trying to figure out what that means.”

“Aren’t we all?” asks Whijo. “Look, this is new territory for everyone. Just take your time, and call me if you need to talk anything else through.”

“Thanks, man, you’re the best,” says Greg, relief coloring his voice. “Which, again, is why I don’t get why I couldn’t have just had a crush on you.”

“Neither can I—I’m pretty great. Take care, man.”

Whijo hangs up with a barely inaudible sigh of relief and moves quietly out of the bathroom and across the apartment. He’s just getting settled into bed when Vic shifts and turns to face him.

“Okay,” says Vic, raising his head off the pillow. “So, I only heard about half of that conversation, but didn’t Josh and Greg just go through some elaborate song and dance over Josh’s ex-fiancée? And now they’re dancing around each other? Is that’s what’s happening?”

“Something like that,” Whijo sighs, accepting, once again, that his friends’ love lives would deprive him of any peace for the near future, and tosses back the covers. “Come on, let’s get the chart – I have to make some modifications.”


End file.
